


Day of the Black Snow

by biscuitlevitation



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Child Abuse, Dark, Gladiators, Gore, Multi, Original Character Death(s), Ship Tease, Slow Burn, a deep dive into all of atla's unfortunate implications
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-01-06 18:57:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18394373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biscuitlevitation/pseuds/biscuitlevitation
Summary: In which Katara doesn't leave when Kya tells her to, and reveals her bending to Yon Rha. Captured and taken to the Fire Nation, she becomes a gladiator for the amusement of the court. As she trains under a former champion and avoids the dangerous attentions of the royal family, Katara must choose between her identity and her life in the arena.





	1. Different Choice, Different Fate

**Author's Note:**

> X-posted from FFN. My account there is Dictator4Life, which I've been using since I was 11 years old so I try not to crosspost very often. But this fic is my baby, and I've worked on it harder than I have on any of my other fanfiction, so I wanted to share it here! I've largely migrated back to FFN for most of my work because the readers there tend to be more open to fics about women than readers on AO3, except for a few select fandoms. I love the culture here, just not how so many people hyper focus on male characters. FFN, for all its flaws, does not fall into that trap.
> 
> In this fic, I'm basing the Water Tribes on the Alutiiq peoples. I've dropped in a few terms in their language, as well. You can find a glossary at the bottom. I know that everyone shares a language in canon, but my headcanon is that a common language was only developed after the four nations came into contact with each other, and that they will still use different terms, occasionally, within their own cultures.
> 
> If you want to know more, a great resource is alutiiqmuseum dot org. I am by no means an expert, so please call me out if I am using terms incorrectly or spreading misinformation. (Beyond the whole magic water stuff.)
> 
> A glossary of Alutiiq terms can be found at the bottom of the chapter.

Sooty flakes fell from the sky, and the hubbub of village life came to a brief but eerie halt. A child's laughter died in her throat, the glee fading from her face at the expression on her brother's.

They both knew what this meant, although neither of them could remember seeing it. The last of the raids had been before their time, taking their tribe's last trained Waterbenders with it. However, ever since Katara had first moved the snow without touching it, they had been drilled extensively on what they had to do if it ever happened again.

"I'm gonna go find _aana_ ," Katara said, and took off in the direction of her family's igloo, as Sokka ran with the older warriors to confront the raiders. Katara was too young to fight, but it was only her worry for her mother that kept her from following him. She was the last Waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe; it was her duty to protect them. And she would, as soon as she found her mother.

Katara burst through the flap of their igloo with an anxious cry of, " _Aana_!" She stopped short, staring at the red and black monster that loomed over her mother.

"Just let her go," Kya said, with forced calm, calling the monster's attention back to herself, "and I'll give you the information you want."

"You heard your mother. Get out of here!" it snapped.

Katara jumped, but stood her ground. " _Aana_ …I'm scared…"

"Go find your _ataa, cingaq_ ," Kya said, using Katara's nickname in the way she had when she was very small, and still needed to be comforted during storms. "I'll handle this."

Katara obeyed hesitantly, but lingered to the side of the entrance. Sokka was ten and already defending the village, and he wasn't even a Waterbender! She had to do her part, too, and make sure her mother was safe, no matter how scared she was. What if it tried to take her away? What if she couldn't get to her father in time? She had to stay here.

It was hard to hear through the shouting of the warriors and the raiders, not to mention the blood pounding in her ears, but Katara's heart stopped when her mother claimed to be the last Waterbender. Why was she lying? She was going to get taken away!

"I'm afraid I'm not taking prisoners today," the monster drawled, and then came a flash of searing heat and a shrill scream —

" _AANA_!"

Katara ran straight into the blaze.

The igloo smelled like burnt meat and copper. Her mother lay face down on the floor, red seeping into the ice beneath her, her hair still smoldering. The monster stood above her, smoke curling from his raised fists.

Acting on instinct, Katara seized the snow now drifting through the hole where their pretty blue flap, now incinerated, had been. It responded and turned to fluid as it flew towards her mother and doused her. The monster whipped around, surprised, but Katara took advantage of his wide bending stance and scrambled between his legs to reach Kya's prone body.

Acting on instinct, she pulled the water towards her once more and rolled her mother over, setting glowing blue hands against the mess of blood and melted skin where her face had been, apologizing tearfully when her mother cried out, garbled and choked with blood.

"So her brat is a bender too, huh…" the monster said, sounding almost amused. "The gods are not smiling upon you, little one. Poor luck for you, to awaken in front of me."

Katara turned to glare, filled with rage and breathless, overwhelming fear. "She's not a bender! She was lying!" She never moved her hands from what had been her mother's face.

"Oh? Your mother was a courageous woman, then. Foolish, but courageous."

Katara bit back a sob, and tried not to drip tears on the burn, knowing that the salt would sting.

"I know I said I wasn't taking prisoners, but this is a different matter. Agni would not approve of the murder of a child," it muttered. "You're coming with me, brat."

The monster snatched the collar of her parka and dragged her from her mother, grimacing at her screams. The glowing blue water dropped from her hands as her arms were grabbed and tied roughly behind her back.

Katara kicked and fought, trying desperately to reach Kya, but her legs were given the same treatment as her arms, and then a gag silenced her wails. She wriggled like a fish, but to no avail. The monster threw her over its shoulder like a dead tiger seal, and took off towards its metal ships at a dead run.

A few of the women noticed and tried to help, but were warded off with jets of flame. Katara bounced on its spiky metal shoulder and tried very hard not to be sick. All she could smell was burnt meat and hair, and all she could see was red.

"Hey!" came a shrill voice, and teary blue eyes met a pair just like her own. Sokka was chasing them fruitlessly, panicked and angry. "Where are you taking my _nayak_?!" He flung his boomerang, but his aim was off. The monster didn't even notice. He leaped aboard the largest ship, ordering his men to follow.

Katara was handed off to an underling who took her below deck and tossed her into a cell without bothering to untie the ropes. As the ship shuddered back to life, Katara curled into herself on the too-warm metal floor and sobbed.

The attack had ended as swiftly as it began. By the time the tribe reached their own ships, the Southern Raiders were long gone.

" _Ataa! Ataa!_ " A voice screamed, and Hakoda turned from where he was conferring with Bato about where the raiders were most likely headed to catch Sokka, who had practically thrown himself at him.

" _Aqsaq_ , what — "

"They took her!" Sokka wailed, and Hakoda's blood turned to ice. "They took Katara!"

"Sokka, how do you know?" he asked urgently, kneeling and taking his son by the shoulders.

"I saw them! She was tied up and then the guy carrying her took her on the ship — "

Without another word, Hakoda picked up Sokka and sprinted for the village, leaving his warriors to follow.

When he arrived, Hakoda was swarmed by worried women, but their anxious queries went ignored. "Where is Kya?" he barked, and an ashen-faced woman with scorched furs answered.

"She's in the healing hut, with Kanna."

Hakoda handed his wailing son to her and ran once more.

He was met at the door by his mother, with lips drawn tight and blood on her hands. "What happened?" he demanded.

"She was badly burned. She's not as bad as she could be, though. Katara must have tried to heal her before — " Her voice broke.

Hakoda pushed past her into the hut, doing his best not to disturb the two healers working over his wife. Bile rose in his throat at the sight of what had been done to her, and he settled in for a long vigil.

Kya died early the next morning, long before the sun rose. After she did, he walked out of the village walls, into the icy wastes beyond, dropped to his knees, and howled.

Later, he would comfort his son. Later, he would rebuild his village. But at that moment, Hakoda gave himself over to his grief and let bitter tears freeze on his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Ataa_ : father
> 
>  _Aana_ : mother
> 
>  _Nayak_ : little sister
> 
> Katara's nickname is _cingaq_ , which means kiss. If you can think of a better one, please tell me! It was originally gonna be fish. :/
> 
> Sokka's is _aqsaq_ , which means belly. I thought that would be cute, because he's always so hungry.
> 
> Nicknames are big with the Alutiiq! They're especially common with children, but can follow a person into adulthood. They're usually based on favorite activities or a particularly fond/funny memory.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you liked it!


	2. Arrival

Katara waited for what felt like a full day, if not more. Her arms and legs were stiff, her hands numb. She had slept for a few fitful hours, and drooled on the floor, unable to stop herself because of the gag. Without anyone to take her to the bathroom, she had wet her pants, which made her eyes sting and her face burn with shame. She hadn't done that since she was three!

She was so thirsty.

Eventually, someone came clomping down the metal stairs, and made a noise of disgust at the smell. They went back up, making Katara whimper with both relief and disappointment. Would they leave her down here forever?

The person returned a few minutes later, carrying something she couldn't make out. She couldn't even see their face from her position on the floor. Something jangled, and the bars slid to one side, and then closed behind them.

"All right, kid, up you get," they said gruffly, in a man's voice. He pulled her up into a sitting position, undid her ropes, and took out the gag.

"I wanna go home," Katara whimpered hoarsely, as soon as she could speak.

"Tough luck. Change into this, and you'll get food and water." Something thumped to the floor beside her.

Katara, still sore, undressed slowly. The man was kind enough to turn his back, allowing a modicum of privacy, although Katara was too young and too overwhelmed to worry much about such a thing. She hesitated to remove her parka, because her _emaa-emaa_ had sewn it for her, but it was uncomfortably warm in the ship and sweating would only make her thirstier. She pulled on the shirt, more of a shift on her because of her age, and made a face at the rough texture and dull red color.

"Um . . . I'm done," she said quietly. The man turned and set a tray on the floor in front of her. On it was a small cup of water and a bowl of plain brown rice. He himself was fairly young, with a crooked nose and an ill-tempered expression that scared her. Katara busied herself with gulping down the water to avoid looking at him.

"Leave the tray by the bars when you're done," he grunted, then grabbed her clothes and set them alight.

"No!" Katara yelped, scrambling backwards. Frightened, she started to wail.

"Calm down, brat, I'm not gonna hurt you," he said sourly. Katara didn't believe him, and even if she had, she still would've been upset by the loss of her clothes. When her crying didn't stop, he amended, "I won't hurt you if you don't give me reason to. That means do as I say and _shut up._ "

Katara clamped her mouth shut, eyes wide, body still shuddering with sobs.

"Eat your rice, brat. That bucket in the corner is for doing your business. You're probably too young to bend much, but if you do, you won't get anything to drink. Understand?"

Katara nodded silently.

He grunted again, satisfied, and stomped back up from where he'd come.

It took a long time for her to gather the courage to eat the rice.

-

Things quickly settled into a routine. The guard, a junior soldier apparently burdened with watching her, stopped by regularly with rice and water. He emptied her bucket and brought her a thin futon to sleep on. Every so often, she was given a clean shirt so that the dirty one could be laundered. She had no shoes, as her boots had been burned, and no covers, as it was warm below deck, and they were considered an unnecessary luxury for a prisoner, besides.

She had no way to know if it was day or night, and no way to mark the passage of time. She was on the very bottom deck, below the ocean surface, so no sunlight or moonlight reached her, and she was too young to recognize the moon's effect on her bending. The lights, a dim red color, never turned off. She could only tell if it was nighttime by the different lengths of time between her meals.

The soldier rarely spoke to her, and if he did, it was either an order or a reprimand. Katara's defiance had long since deserted her, and she did her best not to displease him. The only comfort she had was the swaying of the ship in the water, and even that was greatly reduced in this strange metal boat.

Her diet had very little variation. Occasionally she would get tea instead of water, or a pickled plum with her rice, but that was it. Katara was getting very sick of rice. She spent hours fantasizing about seal jerky and sea prunes and arctic hen and five flavor soup. She felt like Sokka. The comparison made her giggle, and then cry.

It could have been weeks or even months until the boat finally stopped moving.

Katara sat stiffly on her ratty futon, her stomach growling. The soldier, whose name she still did not know, hadn't brought her food yet. It was impossible to tell, but Katara was sure that he was very late. Maybe he had forgotten — he had done so several times in the past — or simply hadn't bothered.

She could hear shouts from above, but they sounded exuberant, cheerfulness lurking in their indistinct voices.

It reminded her of when the men in her village returned from a successful hunt, bearing bounties of meat and fur and bone that kept the tribe supplied with clothes and weapons and fed for weeks at a time. There was always a big celebration when they got back, and the women, overseen by Gran-Gran, made a feast in the main lodge that the whole village was invited to.

She and her _aniingaq_ would tussle and play under the tables and listen to stories at the feet of the village elders. Sokka always got so mad when the older boys refused to let him roughhouse with them, even though he would turn around and do the exact same thing to the kids younger than him. Katara, at eight, was the only other child close to his age in the tribe, and she was content to keep her brother all to herself (not that she'd ever let on that she was).

And then, once the fires burnt low and the elders and babies dozed off, they'd all go home to their igloo, and she'd curl up beside her brother on their soft bed furs and then her father would kiss them goodnight and her mother would —

Katara realized that her homesickness and fear were threatening to overwhelm her again, and bit back her tears. Crying did nothing but make her thirsty, and it made the soldier uncomfortable and tetchy if he saw her. It was best to save it for what she assumed was the nighttime, when no one could hear her begging for her mother.

A long while later, something heavy started clanking down the stairs. Katara saw red and black and spikes and cried out. It was the monster! The monster was back, and he was going to burn her just like he had done to her _aana_ —

"Oh, shut up, brat," it grumbled, and Katara's eyes widened at the familiar words, uttered so often during her time in the cell. The soldier! The soldier had turned into the monster?! No, the monster had sounded and even looked different — she would never forget.

The soldier gripped his new head and pulled. His familiar, scowling face reappeared.

 _It's armor!_ Katara realized. She had seen her father in armor before, but his face had always been completely visible. This armor was so alien to her that she had assumed that it was some terrifying beast, like in the stories Sokka told her to scare her.

It meant that the monster was a man.

The thing that had burned her mother was a _person._

The soldier, unaware and uncaring about her epiphany, stomped into her cell with ropes in his hands. He barked orders that she obeyed without protest, standing and presenting her wrists to be tied in front of her.

"If you try to run or bend, I'll burn you. Understand?"

Katara nodded silently, still reeling from her earlier revelations, too overwhelmed to even contemplate escape. Fire had never been anything but a source of warmth and light to her before, but now it was a weapon, a _threat_ , and she would never regard it the same way again.

And then, for the first time since she arrived, she stepped out of her cell. The soldier tugged her along by the rope like livestock, uncaring of her shorter legs. The metal stairs bit into her tender feet. It was madness to go anywhere without socks and boots in the Southern Water Tribe, even indoors. A person would get frostbitten within hours. She had never gone anywhere barefoot in her life. Even sleeping was better done with socks.

Katara was pulled through dim hallways swarming with other monsters, other soldiers, who didn't bother to look at her as she stumbled past. They went up three more flights of iron stairs before arriving at the top deck.

The first thing she noticed was the sun. It stabbed at her eyes like the glare of snow in summer. The second was the heat. It was pervasive and all-encompassing, like nothing she had ever felt before. The third was the smell. The familiar scent of brine and sea salt was there, but she also smelled a plethora of unfamiliar organic scents, like the fruit Bato had once brought them after a trading expedition, but warm and _everywhere._

The fourth was the monster.

He stood at the sharp, cruel prow of his ship, surveying his ranks of soldiers like a sharkwhale might a school of fish. His eyes swept over her for a moment, and Katara felt something inside her burn even as she froze, fear a rock in her stomach and rage a fire in her throat.

He addressed his troops, but Katara wasn't listening to anything but her own gasping breaths and pounding heart.

-

Katara was struggling to keep upright. She had been marching in the middle of a formation of raiders for what felt like hours, and they showed no signs of stopping. She was young, she was thirsty, she was hungry, she had been wasting away in a brig for La knows how long, and she was exhausted. Her feet were bleeding from the many sharp rocks she had trod on, and were caked with dirt. She had already fallen twice, and been pulled sharply to her feet with the rope both times.

"Tsubasa is within sight," a female soldier called, and the soldiers doubled their pace. Katara tripped, but managed to stay upright, and broke into a painful run. She told herself that it was just the raised dust that made her eyes sting.

They eventually came to a halt outside of the tall metal gates and wooden walls that blocked the entrance to the city. It was completely different from the snow and ice that protected her village, but Katara was too tired to stare.

The soldiers organized themselves into parade formation, and the soldier holding her rope eagerly tugged her to the front, with the other spoils of war. There weren't many; the Southern Water Tribe, once as impressive as its sister in the north, had been devastated by a hundred years of raids and war. Katara was the crown jewel of their loot, and she wasn't very impressive.

She tensed as the monster strode to the front, and the gates swung open.

The city was just as strange to Katara as the armor, but what really shocked her were the people. They lined the streets and thronged along the storefronts, gathering to welcome the Southern Raiders home. She felt their curious stares and shrank into herself, walking as far away from the monster as the rope would let her.

She caught the amber eyes of a girl her age sitting on her father's shoulders. The contempt there surprised her; it was like she was looking at an animal. For the first time in a while, Katara thought of how she must look. She hadn't bathed since she had been taken, she was wearing only a rough red shirt, and she was covered in dirt from the road. Her braid had long since morphed into a mass of knots and tangles. In contrast, the little girl was clean and pretty, her dark hair twisted into a bun and her clothes neat.

Shame rose up like bile in Katara's throat, and her blue gaze dropped to her toes.

They eventually reached what the monster referred to as the Waterbender prison. It was an imposing iron complex that reminded her sharply of the brig. She was ceremoniously handed off to the awaiting guards by the monster, who had taken her rope once they came to a halt. As they led her away, she looked desperately at the man who had taken care of her for so long. As frightening as he was, he was the only person she had seen during her time at sea, and she had latched onto him as only a lonely child could. Surely, after so long, he had become at least a little attached to her?

He didn't even look at her.

As the battalion marched away, Katara could do nothing but wait for the guards to take her inside.

Though it may be the last time she ever saw the soldier, it was not the last she'd see the monster. She'd make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Emaa_ : grandmother  
>  _Aniingaq_ : older brother
> 
> Another great resource for info on the Alutiiq is alutiiqlanguage.org. 90% of the time spent on this chapter was just researching the Alutiiq for fun lol. It's a really cool culture, and I hope I'm doing it justice (or at least spreading awareness of it to someone who can).
> 
> This story is very Katara-centric, so Zuko won't show up until chapter 5. The soldier is a villainous OC/ascended extra so he's not especially important.


	3. The Capital

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for violence against children and implied sexual objectification of a child. Further clarification below.

The prison was both better and worse than the brig. Her cell was bigger, but it was far above the ground, and she had no bed. She could see the sun and the moon, but had little protection from the cold or the heat. She got clothes that were closer to fitting, with underthings and actual pants, but the food was as dry and tasteless as the air, and she was always chained before they allowed her to drink, even though she was so young and completely untrained. She was kept relatively clean, too, but they did so by chaining her up fully clothed and blasting her with a hose for several five second increments.

The guards interacted with her even less than the soldier had. They called her only "the prisoner," and spoke about her as if she wasn't there, and never responded to anything she said. Katara stopped talking altogether, feeling even more like livestock than she had being marched through the city for people to ogle.

Even though it was called the Waterbending prison, she saw no others. The raiders had never bothered to take non-benders, only killing any that posed too much of a threat to neutralize quickly. (She and Sokka used to listen in on her father's war councils from outside the main lodge. It had never seemed very real before, even though she saw men with burns and men who never came back at all each time the warships returned.

It felt real now.)

Seasons passed, and the bored guards became less careful with their words around her. They spoke often about something called the "freedom duels," and speculated about whomever they favored to become the "champion." Their current favorite was a Firebender named Chit Sang, although they occasionally speculated, much less respectfully, about an Earthbender called Tyro. And very rarely, when the moon was high in the sky and Katara feigned sleep, they whispered fearfully of a former Waterbending duelist they only ever called "the Puppetmaster."

With only these talks to distract herself from her misery and futile rage, Katara latched on to them obsessively. She missed her family, her home, and, most of all, water. She had lived her entire life within five minutes of the ocean, surrounded by ice and snow. The desperate, instinctive _need_ regularly overwhelmed her. Information about another Waterbender was the only respite she was granted. She knew nothing of her family, and might not ever see them again. In lieu of blood, the Puppetmaster became her only kin in this unforgiving foreign land.

The Puppetmaster was the most powerful contender the freedom duels had ever seen. She had won her title from the previous champion within months, a feat never accomplished before or since. Even though the prize was supervised liberty within the capital walls, the Puppetmaster was too dangerous to allow to roam from the prison complex below the arena, although the guards never mentioned why. She was kept wrapped in chains in the days before, during, and after the full moon, and no one was allowed near her but the most powerful Firebenders during that time. She would be kept there, cloaked in infamy and fear, occasionally brought out for duels against any challengers, until she died.

It took her a year and a half to learn that much.

Katara had realized long ago that she was intended to become a combatant in the freedom duels, as well. Most captured benders and notorious criminals were, and Katara was the first Waterbender to be captured in decades. The last Southern bender had been taken when her father was an infant, and the Northern Water Tribe had long since sealed itself up behind impenetrable walls of ice. Apparently Waterbenders were widely feared in the Fire Nation, likely due to the Puppetmaster's influence. Her age was the only reason that the monster hadn't tried to kill her on sight, as he had attempted with her mother.

He hadn't succeeded. He couldn't have. Somehow, the glowing blue water had healed her, and though she may be horrifically scarred, her _aana_ was still alive. She had to be.

It was midsummer when they unlocked her cage for the first time in roughly two years. Katara, now ten years old, was momentarily terrified for reasons she couldn't name. She had recently noticed some of the men giving her odd looks when she changed clothes, and it made her breath quicken with panic each time. She was at their mercy — they could do anything they wanted to her without repercussions.

Thankfully, they just chained her wrists behind her and led her from the cage that had been her home for so long. Katara had exercised as best she could, whenever her frustration became too great, but one could only do so much in a cell, and her gait was stiff and unsure.

Two guards led her to the thick iron doors of the entrance, and her breath caught. Were they taking her outside?! The doors opened, and even though the prison had windows, the sudden influx of light still made her squint.

When Katara's vision cleared, the first thing she noticed was the wagon. It was large, covered with red cloth, and hooked to two imposing dragon moose. It was flanked by a group of soldiers bearing the royal insignia. Her time in the Waterbending prison had come to an end.

"That's the Waterbender?" one soldier asked disdainfully. Katara grit her teeth and met her gaze head on. She was no longer the filthy, scared little girl that had first set foot in Tsubasa. They could not break her.

"She's not much, but she's a Waterbender. Dumb as a box of rocks, and more hard headed than an Earthbender, too," one guard said. Katara shot a glare his way that he didn't see, stung. Just because she didn't speak didn't mean she was _stupid._ She was plenty smart, although Sokka always had been the clever one. It's not like there was much she could learn in prison, anyway!

She ignored the familiar ache in her chest at the thought of her _aniingaq._

Katara's defiance had not gone unnoticed by the royal soldier, who now looked almost amused. "I think the Puppetmaster'll like this one."

The guards and even the other soldiers fell silent at that, shifting uneasily. She snorted in disgust, and snatched Katara's chains. The Waterbender felt a grudging respect at her no-nonsense attitude that she quickly quashed.

 _She's a Firebender_ , Katara reminded herself. _She thinks of you as an animal, so that's how you need to think of her._

The soldier handed her off to one of her hulking subordinates, who shoved her none too gently up into the wagon. She thrust out her hands to catch herself and scraped them against rough wooden boards. _Better my hands than my face._

When she looked up, she found several sets of green eyes staring curiously at her. There were seven in all, ranging from around her age to older than her father. _Some of them were probably caught pretty recently_ , she thought, noting that the older Earthbenders seemed to have more fight in them than the kids. _They probably keep us away from the duels till we're big enough to fight properly._

"A Waterbender," a teenage girl said in surprise. "I thought the North was supposed to be impenetrable."

"It is," an older man said. "Otherwise it would look like the South." Katara gave him an ugly look at the slight to her barely-remembered tribe.

"Well, they can't stay in there all the time. How would they eat?" a young girl around her own age reasoned.

"Shut up or you're all getting dragged behind the wagon the whole way to the capital!" a soldier snapped, and they were quiet for the rest of the ride.

They eventually stopped so that the soldiers could eat and rest, and each of the prisoners were given a hard, tasteless biscuit. The Earthbenders were separated from her and led down to a brownish stream to drink. Katara was dragged toward the thickest nearby oak and chained tightly to it while another soldier brought her a tiny cup of brackish water.

"Don't get any ideas, Waterbending bitch," he sneered. Katara gulped down half of it and spat the rest, now bitingly cold, into his face.

The Earthbenders and even a few of the soldiers broke into laughter. The other prisoners stopped when he backhanded her across the face and kneed her in the stomach so hard she threw up. A smaller number of the soldiers just laughed harder.

"A fighter, huh," the female soldier from before chuckled. "Maybe she'll stand half a chance in the ring. Still," and here she grabbed Katara's bruised jaw, "save it for the other prisoners, little miss. Don't give her any food or water for the rest of the journey."

By the next day, Katara could barely move. Her jaw throbbed, her gut ached, and she was too dehydrated to even cry.

The Earthbenders clambered back in from their latest water break, avoiding looking at her prone form. But the girl her own age, who had spoken the day before, crawled forward and tapped her lips. Confused, Katara parted them, and then the girl leaned down and kissed her. Shocked, she almost jerked back, but then she felt the wetness on her tongue and swallowed greedily. The girl had brought her water in her mouth.

"Chen," a boy hissed, appalled, "What are you doing?"

The girl, Chen, pulled back and gave Katara a sheepish smile. Katara seized her in a grateful hug, her throat still too dry and unused to speaking for her to thank her properly. The girl tensed, surprised, then gently embraced her.

They sat pressed together for the rest of the journey. Katara, who had gone without human contact for years, soaked it in. Touch was casual and encouraged in her tribe, to help with both emotional bonds and the conservation of warmth. Chen seemed less used to it, but shyly pleased nevertheless. She brought her water several more times, and seemed apologetic whenever Katara's stomach growled, but she couldn't bring both and Katara preferred the water, anyway. Each time she did, Katara hugged her tightly.

The boy who had called out the first time they kissed seemed uncomfortable and disgusted by it, but he and Chen did not seem particularly close, so Katara decided she didn't care. None of the others seemed to. There was nothing wrong with kissing another girl, and they were only doing it out of necessity, anyway. Besides, she was forever indebted to Chen, and she already considered the girl her dearest friend, even though they had never actually spoken to each other.

Within another day, they reached the capital. The soldiers, who were disgruntled by being saddled with escort duty and their slow pace, brightened considerably. The prisoners were less enthused, but even they were awed at the sight of the city in the dormant volcano. Katara morbidly hoped that it would erupt, and take most of her problems with it.

People had gathered at the gates to see the newest duelists. She could hear some of them already starting to make bets. Chen shrank back, and Katara squeezed her hand, even as she observed the city with reluctant fascination. The people of the Fire Nation were pale, their hair dark and long. They looked more aristocratic than the ones she had seen in Tsubasa, their clothes finer, though more . . . revealing. The scent of smoke and spice drifted in the air.

The wagon stopped in front of a looming colosseum, and the newcomers were herded from the wagon and underground, into yet another prison complex, completely made of metal to discourage any unauthorized Earthbending. Chen never let go of her hand. They were about to be divvied up into different cell blocks when another royal guard, whip in hand, sprinted into their midst.

"Where's the Waterbender?!" he panted. "The Puppetmaster wants to see her."

Katara was led through a series of winding, labyrinthine hallways lined with cell doors. It was surprising and impressive that the Fire Nation had managed this without Earthbending — or, more likely, Katara realized, with slaves.

The guard stopped in front of a heavily reinforced door that was flanked by four more beefy guards. They undid the many heavy-duty locks and fearfully shoved her inside, slamming it shut behind her.

The interior was shockingly luxurious. Katara had never seen anything like it, and had never expected to in a prison cell, of all places. A thick carpet covered the metal grated floor, and embroidered hangings lined the walls. Several scented candles were situated around the room, filling it with a soft light and a thick, sweet smell she couldn't place. There was a fully furnished bed in one corner, and a desk and stool in the other. A figure with long gray hair and clothes as fine as those of the civilians she had seen sat there, her wrinkled face blank and solemn.

Katara's heart skipped a beat, eyes lighting up. Could this frail old woman possibly be . . . ?

"I won't hurt you, little Waterbender. What's your name? Which tribe are you from?"

"Ka — " she choked, and cleared her throat. Her next words didn't sound pretty, but they were understandable. "Katara. Of the Southern Water Tribe."

The Puppetmaster's teeth glinted between withered lips. "Hello, Katara. My name is Hama."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Katara gets ogled by creepy guards while changing clothes. She also gets shoved around a lot, and unfortunately she will face further brutalization as the fic continues, despite her young age. 
> 
> Note about the Waterbending prison: I know it had grates in the ceiling in the show, but that's just dumb. I mean, if it rains, the guards are all fucked. Always bothered me as a kid. There's also some talk about racism, but it's a common enough tactic used in imperialist movements and the Fire Nation is definitely imperialist. Plus A:tLA is a kid's show, so they couldn't really show that, but I think it was implied. Genocide usually involves prejudice, kids.
> 
> Also, lotsa gay in this chapter. I am all about the gay. They're just kids, and Chen is an OC, so she won't play a very big part. I just feel like Katara would latch onto anyone, at this point, and she really needs a friend, poor thing. Also I need a person I can use to inflict suffering upon her. I mean, her family's out of the picture (for now), so _someone's_ gotta fill that role.
> 
> Anyway, I promise the endgame is Zutara, but Katara's awesome, so there will be ship tease with lots of people, not all of whom are dudes.


	4. First Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for gore in this chapter. The fight gets pretty graphic

Katara quickly decided that, of all the places she had been imprisoned, she liked the compound best.

The food was the best she had been given in years, hearty and nutritious. Having spent so long with only rice and dry, tasteless biscuits, Katara ate herself sick.

She was not allowed to take her meal with the others, and normally would have been made to in an empty cell. Instead, upon Hama's request, she ate with her. They were not trusted around the drinks of other prisoners. Katara, thrilled to meet another Southern Waterbender, was actually grateful for the privacy.

Hama sat at her desk, and she took her place on the rug, at the feet of her village elder, as all Water Tribe children were expected to when requesting guidance or wisdom. An adult's place was to stand respectfully, but she would not have to worry about that until she turned sixteen.

Hama interrogated her about the state of the tribe, and Katara answered every question she could, unspeakably grateful for the chance to reminisce without grief. In turn, she begged Hama to teach her about Waterbending, and the Puppetmaster agreed just as eagerly.

"Have you had any training, child?" Hama asked.

"No," Katara admitted, looking down at her clasped hands, "There was no one left, and I was taken when I was eight."

"Did our sister tribe not offer to teach you?"

"They don't leave the north," she said, confused.

Hama's face turned bitter and melancholy. "Typical."

Katara said nothing, though the resignation in Hama's tone made her wonder, for the first time, if there was something strange about their sister tribe's willful isolation.

"Well, no matter. This leads to the first lesson that I will teach you, Katara: a bender must rely upon themselves before any other. To expect anyone else to protect you, even your own people, is suicide."

-

When curfew arrived, Katara followed the guard to the main hall without protest. Hama had told her a lot, and her mind was whirling with uncertainty.

The hall was where the vast majority of prisoners slept. The more dangerous ones, like Hama, were isolated from the rest, although to Katara that seemed more like a perk than anything else.

The newcomers were sleeping side by side, with a noticeable distance between them and the other inmates, and Katara headed towards them, eager to talk to Chen. She was curious to see that, with the exception of her group, the other prisoners slept as far away from each other as possible.

Katara laid her threadbare bedroll beside her friend, who offered her a smile that was difficult to discern in the dark. Guards were patrolling the room, so she said nothing, but she made sure to squeeze Chen's hand before drifting off into an uneasy slumber.

-

"GET UP, YOU BASTARDS," a guard roared, startling Katara awake. She rolled off her bedding, onto the chilly metal floor, and jumped to her feet before she fully registered what was going on. Beside her, Chen was sitting up stiffly, blinking wide, dazed green eyes. All around them, prisoners were rolling up their bedding and lining up in the hallway. The newcomers looked around uncertainly and then copied them.

Katara was heading towards the line with Chen when a rough hand gripped her shoulder and spun her around.

"Oh, no you don't, Waterbender," the guard growled. One of her eyes was missing, a wide horizontal scar bisecting the socket. "You're coming with me."

Katara shot her friend a trepidatious look before she was yanked away down another hallway. The guard eventually shoved her into an unoccupied cell and slammed the door. Katara would have wondered if she had done something wrong, but the object in the center of the room had taken her full attention.

Water! A tub of glorious, glorious water awaited her, and Katara darted forward with a cry of glee. She had not bent in years, but when she reached out with her chi and pulled, it felt as natural as breathing. Water whirled clumsily around her, splashing the walls and the floor, separating into globes and then soaking back into one large stream. In the middle of the chaos, Katara danced, and smiled so hard her cheeks hurt.

She soon realized that she was meant to bathe, not play, when she noticed a bar of soap lying nearby. It thrilled her almost as much as the water had. She had not had access to soap her entire time in the Waterbending prison.

Katara stripped and lathered herself up, swirling the water around her body and hair to wash the suds away. Her lack of control meant that more of it ended up on the floor than on her, and she soon had to drop it back into the tub to avoid losing all of it and rinsed herself the normal way.

The scarred guard banged on the door. "Time's almost up! If you're not ready in three minutes I'll drag you into the arena naked myself!"

Katara's good mood came to an abrupt and messy end. She didn't doubt that the guard would make good on her threat. Hama had let her know exactly how vicious their captors could be, and Katara had her own years of experience that added credence to their claims.

She dressed in the new prison uniform they had provided, kicking her old one aside without regrets. The clothes worn by duelists were much more comfortable, and she even got boots! They were made of leather, and not the soft hide used in the water tribe, but they were durable and fit her fairly well. She didn't get socks, but her feet were so calloused from years spent barefoot that it hardly mattered.

Katara had been about to tie her hair into its customary braid when the guard barged in and yanked her unceremoniously out the door. She resigned herself to a day spent with her hair in her face, and resolved to get ready quicker next time.

She was hustled through the halls, tripping a couple times, although a good meal and a good night's sleep on real bedding had done wonders for her strength. She was shoved into Hama's cell, along with a hearty breakfast and two cups of steaming tea.

"So they mean to make you fight today," Hama muttered, brow creased and eyes dark. Katara blinked, surprised. "They always have the newcomers fight soon after they arrive, and you are a Waterbender. It's no wonder they're rushing it. The vultures have been anticipating it for weeks."

She recalled the excited people on the streets, eager to get a look at them and take bets. "But I don't know how to fight. Not really," she said anxiously. What if she lost? Would she be punished?

"They won't pit you against other benders. Not so early on. You'll be fighting criminals."

Katara gulped. That was worse! The benders were just regular people who had been taken from their homes, but the criminals were likely violent and dangerous. And they were Fire Nation, on top of all that.

Hama saw her apprehension, and smiled. "It is unwise to underestimate an opponent, but it is also unwise to let fear shackle you. Eat your porridge, but leave the tea. I will teach you some basic defense."

She forgot all about her fear. She was going to learn from a Waterbending master! Katara wolfed down her food, while Hama ate at a more sedate pace. She drew patterns in the air with the steam from their drinks, drawing delighted noises from her young cellmate.

Once her bowl was clean, Hama stood, a strangely fluid movement for such an old woman. Katara scrambled to copy her, unable to quash her eager grin.

"A bender's body is their finest weapon, and their element is an extension of that. Water is, first and foremost, a tool to protect yourself. Do not hesitate to keep yourself from harm, by any means necessary.

"Your objective in the upcoming duel is to keep yourself safe. Strike only when necessary. Use your opponent's movements against them. Water is the element of redirection, and that is the principle upon which combative Waterbending is based. Now, I will send the tea to you, and you must turn my force back upon me."

Hama brought up two streams of tea from their cups, condensed them, and sent a globe of liquid flying to her. Katara reached out, but when she took it into her control and tried to send it back, it just splashed everywhere.

"Oh, no!" Katara yelped, but Hama was already bringing the tea back up from where it had soaked into the rug.

"Do not _push_ , Katara. _Catch_. Catch, and send it back to me," she said, and sent it toward her again. This time, she managed to whirl the tea in an arc, and send it back in a wobbly stream.

"I did it!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, good job. Now work on making it smoother, and adding your own force instead of depending on mine. Try to hit me with it. We aren't playing catch. Your goal is to overwhelm your opponent so that they are forced to fall back."

Hama was a patient but firm teacher, drilling Katara again and again until she could do it without thinking about it. She gradually added force with each successful return, until it was flowing constantly around them both in a fragrant blur. Katara dropped the tea several times, but Hama just collected it each time and told her to try again.

Even though Katara was trying to hit her with all her might, she never got a single drop on her teacher's clothes. In contrast, Hama was going incredibly easy on her, turning each impact into a gentle splash every time she broke through Katara's defenses.

"You're a natural, little _nuusiq_ ," Hama complemented, once she had deemed Katara's redirection adequate. The nickname gave her pause, but she was proud to have earned both it and her elder's praise. "It takes most new students days to get this proficient at this exercise, and you have done it within hours."

"It's probably because of how old I am, compared to when you started," she demurred, flushing happily nevertheless.

"Do not sell your skills short. You are very bright."

"Thank you, teacher," Katara grinned, and Hama graced her with a gentle smile.

"Do you think that you can attack with such force with your water at a standstill?"

"Yes!"

"Show me."

-

By the time lunch arrived, Katara could jet water with bruising force, and spray shards of ice in a wide arc. Hama assured her that accuracy would come with practice. Her ice, once it met with the wall, clattered harmlessly to the ground, whereas her teacher's was thrown hard enough to shatter on impact and even left marks on the metal.

There was a tentative knock at the door, and Hama gave them permission to enter. A hulking guard with shoulders three times wider than Katara's skulked in, paling at the sight of the tea hovering between her teacher's hands, her fingers curled like claws. He set the tray on her desk deferentially, then lingered at the doorway.

"What?" Hama snapped, and he quailed.

"Um . . . w-we will be taking the girl after she eats, in preparation for the match."

"You will do no such thing." The Puppetmaster's voice was colder than her homeland. "She will be staying with me until she is to be sent out into the arena."

"I-I will inform the head guard o-of your wishes," he stuttered, and fled.

"Disgusting," she muttered, and then turned to Katara with a smile. "Eat up, dear. You need to rest, so that you will be at your peak when you are in the arena."

"Thanks," Katara said cautiously. "I mean, I'll probably lose, anyway, so—"

" _You will not lose_ ," Hama hissed, leaning down and gripping her shoulders hard enough to leave bruises. "You are the last Waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe, and my pupil. You will do _whatever you must_ in order to win. You must _not_ lose. Do you understand?!" She shook her a little.

"Yes," Katara squeaked. She suddenly understood why this woman was so feared. "I won't lose."

"You won't," Hama said firmly, and they ate lunch in silence.

-

The time came for her to be taken to the arena, and, despite the twisting feeling in her gut, Katara was almost relieved. Although Hama had soon reverted to an amiable village elder, she still felt uneasy, and their conversation had been little more than a lecture on the spiritual side of bending while Katara nodded along mutely, worried that she might anger her again if she said anything wrong.

Once the cell door was shut and locked behind them, the male guard from before seemed a lot more intimidating. He seemed almost embarrassed that she had witnessed his fright, and made sure to treat her roughly as he manhandled her to join the seven other benders who had arrived to the capital with her. They stood in a tight cluster behind a pair of huge iron doors. The scarred woman from before, who was watching the other benders, sent her a nasty grin.

"What exactly are we supposed to do?" the boy who had gotten angry at her and Chen whispered.

"It's probably like a bending match back home," the middle aged man who had insulted her tribe said. "Just gotta knock the other guy out of the ring."

Beside her, Chen was trembling. Katara put a comforting hand on her shoulder and murmured, "We'll be fine, Chen. I'll keep you safe."

Chen stared at her for a moment, and she realized that it was the first time that she had spoken in front of her. Then her hand crept up to cover Katara's own, and she offered her a watery smile.

"Listen up, maggots," the huge male guard roared, silencing them, and then directed their attention to the scarred guard standing by the door.

"This will be a team duel. Your opponents are non-benders, so they've been provided with weapons." There was a ripple of unease among them. Chen stepped closer to Katara's side. "The match ends when one team wins."

"How . . . how do we win?" the teenage girl asked cautiously.

The guard grinned. It was an ugly thing, twisted and malicious, gaping like her missing eye. "You kill your opponents," she said simply, and the doors began to open.

The arena was vast, a long oval three times the size of a Fire Nation ship, the ground covered in sand. A huge dome of gridded steel loomed overhead, presumably to protect the audience if a duelist got any ideas. The stands were even larger than the dome, holding hundreds of spectators, though Katara had no doubt that they could seat well over a thousand. A red box, marked with the crest of the royal family, sat at the center of one side of the oval. It was empty.

On their end was a pile of boulders and a huge metal trough of water. Katara felt a spark of excitement, despite herself. It was quickly quelled when she spotted the rack of weapons on the other side, and the rough, vicious-looking people approaching it. Due to their milling around and her sudden, sickening fear, it was hard to count how many, but she guessed eight; one enemy for each bender. If they were non-benders, that meant they were in here for actual serious crimes, and likely wouldn't show any hesitation to hurt them.

There was a roar that started up as soon as they stepped out, followed by a spurt of booing and cruel laughter when the benders clumped together, dazed and disbelieving.

A solid young man from their side stepped forward and assumed a bending stance, yelling, "Snap out of it! They're coming!"

And they were coming. As soon as they selected their weapons, the criminals started to stalk forward with bloodthirsty grins. They obviously didn't see them as much of a threat. Even as she raced toward the water, heart in her throat, Katara noticed that they weren't in any sort of formation. She had assumed that warriors always worked in a cohesive unit, as they had in every fight she'd ever witnessed, both in the tribe and the Fire Nation, but apparently that wasn't the case.

As the other benders fanned out, she noticed Chen and the boy hanging back, hiding behind the pile of boulders. They both looked terrified. Katara was tempted to join them, but she had seen violence before, had seen how horribly it could end, and she knew exactly what would happen if she didn't fight back. So she ignored her trembling hands, her pounding heart, and the tears in her eyes.

She was the last Southern Waterbender. She would protect them.

Katara pulled as much water as she could around her, feeling marginally safer in its cool embrace. Their opponents paused; another roar of excitement went up from the crowd at the sight of the rumored Waterbender. The young man took the opportunity to send a boulder flying into the other team's midst while all were focused on her, and then they all exploded into action.

A man with two long knives charged at her. Almost sobbing with fear, she sent a jet of water that knocked him off his feet, then encased his torso and limbs in ice. The spectators shouted indistinctly for blood, but Katara stumbled back, relief making her knees go weak.

All around her, the Earthbenders were joining the fight, pushing their opponents back. They pulled their punches when it counted, but Katara began to believe that there was a chance they would survive this.

And then the first bender died.

It was the middle aged man. He died with a gurgling shriek, his neck messily slashed by a woman with a katana. The benders stopped, shocked, and the non-benders surged forward, cutting down two more of her teammates and pushing them all back.

Another bender turned tail and ran, joining Chen behind the rocks. The only ones left to fight were Katara and the young man, versus six criminals. (Katara had frozen one, and the teenage girl, now bleeding into the sand, had crushed the legs of another.) The young man sent her a desperate look and launched himself into the fray.

Katara ran to follow, determined to help even as she sobbed. She pulled up more water into a massive wall to shield them both. The only other bender sent her a grateful glance and proceeded to shove and kick boulders through her makeshift shield, forcing her to work constantly to reform it. One rock met its mark with a sickening _crunch_ , crushing a non-bender into a mess of blood and broken bone, and Katara dropped their barrier when she used her water to smack another into the arena wall. He slid down into the sand and didn't get up again.

A scream of pain came from behind them, and she realized with a feeling like being punched in the stomach that a few of the criminals had decided to go after the easy prey, still hiding behind the rocks. In her panic, she turned and ran, leaving the young man to confront two non-benders on his own so that she could go after the other pair.

One of the three benders that had run instead of fighting, a middle aged woman, was already dead. The boy her own age was bleeding profusely from a wound in his side that would likely prove fatal. Chen was cowering against the doors, fingers bloody from scratching futilely at the metal. A woman loomed above her, raising her odachi to deliver a killing blow.

With a furious screech, she launched a humongous wave, knocking her backwards and freezing her feet together. Chen turned towards her, mouth opening to shout a warning —

Something thudded into her and tore her shoulder open, sending her flying. The pain was unreal, and she was vaguely aware of the man who'd attacked her swinging back a studded club to hit her again — and then a rock flew through the air and smacked into his skull, throwing him to the ground and likely concussing him.

" _Chen_ ," Katara gasped. Her friend had saved her life.

Chen smiled tremulously, tears pouring down her cheeks, and bent to help her up. But then the man with the club lurched to his feet and charged them once again. Katara knew that the next blow would be for Chen, who was completely defenseless while supporting her. Her mind went blank and, without consciously considering what she was doing, she _moved._

Before she knew it, she was forcing her hand into his stomach and up into his rib cage, her fingers sheathed in razor sharp blades of ice. Katara's arm was suddenly encased in soft, squishy flesh. She could feel his pumping heart against her palm. Something warm and foul-smelling spurted onto her face, catching Chen, who was still pressed to her side, as well. The man gurgled and dropped his club, losing the strength in his legs. Katara was pulled down with him, her arm plunged almost shoulder-deep in his body, his muscles tensed around the intrusion like a vise. Frightened and disgusted, she yanked her hand out with a moist squelch. Her frozen claws caught in his intestine on the way out, partially disemboweling him in the process.

Chen dropped to her knees and vomited, and she was quick to follow, only barely missing the corpse. Blinking blood and tears from her eyes, she looked up and saw the utter carnage they had wrought.

Blood was splattered everywhere, over sand, walls, rocks, ice, and even the dome. People lay dead and dying all around her. Someone had crushed the head of the man she had frozen. The young bender she had fought beside was going around and slitting throats with a salvaged knife, ensuring that all of the opposing duelists were dead or well on their way there. The rest of her team already was.

The stench was horrendous. She realized that the dome and the height of the stands were probably meant to protect the audience from that, too. They got all of the glamour of violence, with none of the mess. The sounds of shouting filtered through the pounding of her pulse in her ears, and she realized that they were cheering.

In the remnants of her first duel, Katara clung to Chen and wept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nuusiq: knife
> 
> Katara's skills might be a little unrealistic at this point in her training, but people are capable of a lot in a life-or-death situation. Besides, Katara's already gone through over two years of hell at this point, so she's got a lot of fortitude already. And it's already been established in the show that she's basically a prodigy, able to become a master within months, and that wasn't even in a situation where she was constantly fighting for her life. I hope that excuses her quickly learned bending prowess, even if it is more raw power than anything else.


End file.
